


Golden berries

by Chelidona (Hobbity)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M, Unrelated Fíli and Kíli, fairytale AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 13:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18180932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hobbity/pseuds/Chelidona
Summary: For the GatheringFiki SpringFRE 2019, prompt 149: "The king of the summerland gets lost and wanders into the kingdom of his ennemy : the king of the winterland"





	Golden berries

The sun kissed the rolling hills in the distance, bathing the world in a warm glow.

King Kíli looked towards those familiar hills, beyond which his castle lay. He was riding among fields of gold, promising a rich harvest in wheat. He could practically smell the cake that his chefs would bake, combining the freshly milled grain with the rich harvest of berries from the royal garden.

Today, however, he was on a quest to save his kingdom. He was going to track down the fabled bush of golden berries. According to the stories back in the days of Kíli’s great grandfather, not only the royal gardens but also those of every peasant had been crammed with bushes of the golden berry, the magic berry that brought the land fertility and that reinvigorated the magic that pulsated through the land and that flowed through the magical borders of the kingdom to those of the other seasons.

But then a plague had come over the land. A plague brought on by Smaug, the evil dragon that had laid to waste so much of the beautiful kingdom of summer. And now their borders weakened and soon, it was feared, the winds of spring, autumn and most frighteningly of all, winter, might break over their lands, laying waste to their harvests.

So Kíli, along with nobles of the court, had gone on a quest to the farthest reaches of the kingdom to bring back the riches that were lost and to restore the land.

“Are you sure we are going in the right direction?” Gloin asked from behind.

Kíli reined in his horse.

“It is the direction that your own brother said the signs pointed to.”

“He must have got them wrong.”

“It would the first time.”

“We are riding towards winter.” Gloin pointed his axe towards mountains shrouded in mists on the far horizon. “Where Smaug came from. Why would anything have survived his passage?”

“We are going to find out.” Kíli turned back around to lead the way.

~*~

Two days later they left the fertile fields of the Branduin valley and entered a forest awash in the chirping and screeching of birds. The sunlight drew irritating patterns on the floor dense with moss. They followed a narrow track winding through the trees. The brambles of thick clusters of brambleberries often obstructed their passage; Gloin gleefully cleared them his axe. But there was no sign of the goldenberries.

The nights were growing chillier now that they were closing in on the magical border to the kingdom of winter.

On the fifth morning after entering the forest, they saw a golden partridge flitting through the underbush, a sign Oin had told them to look out for.

Certain that they were on the right path, Kíli pressed on.

In the evening, they made camp near a brook that was babbling through the forest. The soil was soft and a fallen old tree had created both a clearing and a bridge over the brook.

Parched after a day of riding, Kíli’s first goal was to taste some of the clear water. But when Kíli bent down to refill his waterskin, he slipped and fell in the stream. That was when he discovered that what he had assumed to be a shallow forest brook, hid great depth and rapid currents. He had a split second to appreciate the horrified faces of his companions before he was swept away.

He desperately tried to cling on to the sides, cutting his skin on sharp stones and roots, before he was pulled under.

-~*~

When he came too, he barely noticed his surroundings, his body convulsing in shivers, his teeth rattling so hard he could not hear anything of his surroundings. His eyes were screwed shut to protect him from the onslaught of icy air and try as he may, he could not force them to open through his shivers.

His lips were pried open and something very hot poured down his throat.

Spluttering he sat up, supported by unseen arms, and spat half of it out. Something warm was put around his shoulders, and he finally managed to get one eye open.

“More camomile tea?” an elderly dwarf asked, his beard as white as the snow around them.

Kíli’s shivers stopped in shock.

This was snow.

Something he had only ever seen in picture books.

He was in the kingdom of winter. The kingdom of his enemy. The cold was slicing through his hair, and pricking his skin.

And what he had supposed was a brook was a wide river here. The sides were crusted with ice. The roots of a tree were reaching into the river. Kíli’s waterskin was hanging off one of them. The tree, Kíli had to suppose, had saved his life.

He let the kindly dwarf help him up. 

How did dwarves survive in this kingdom where even the weather was evil. This was not a like a chilly evening in summer. This cold was a force that dug through the skin to claw at the bones.

~*~

He needed to get out. He desperately needed to get out before they found out who he was.

The dwarf who had rescued him was Dori. And he had brought him to his little farm (hovel) which he shared with his brothers. So far, that would not have been a disaster. A few days of being nursed back to his usual form by three peasants who assumed he had lost the outer shell of his clothing in the river.

Only. Their hovel was currently also occupied by the king of Winterland and his retinue. They were out, at the moment, Dori’s brother Ori informed him, after he had finished a hearty stew. But were expected back soon.

And as if on cue, the door opened.

Kíli froze once more.

The man who entered had eyes as blue as the ice hanging off the roof. The hair that escaped his hood was light blond, sprinkled with little snow crystals, that only clung on to his braided moustache and beard.

His cheeks dimpled as he greeted his host with a smile.

He was a vision.

And of course the one Dori addressed with “Your Majesty. We got a visitor.”

It would be harder to make up a story that convinced a king and his retinue than it would be to deceive a bunch of farmers.

So Kíli pretended to have no idea who he was. No, he did not remember anything, he had no clue where he even came from.

“He’s got to be from the summerland,” one of the king’s companions, his beard as white as Dori’s, remarked. “Dori would certainly know anyone living in the area between here and the border, where the river starts.”

“He might be one of the adventurous young noblemen on the hunt for the golden berries, Balin,” another dwarf said. “Word of the king’s quest has spread. Despite our best efforts to keep it secret.”

“Goldenberry?” Kíli asked feebly.

“See? That stirred a memory. Have you found a bush of the fabled berry, lad?”

Berries? In the snow? Kíli must have looked as clueless as he felt, for everyone around him sighed.

“It must be around here,” the king said. “All the signs point to this forest. Smaug never corrupted this area.”

The same companion crossed his massive arms and shook his head. “We have searched nearly every inch of the forest. And no farmer has ever seen it. The bush is just a myth, let’s face it.”

“No.” As the king shook his head more vigorously than his companion, little droplets of melted snow flew in Kíli’s face. “We need this bush.”

The topic concluded and everyone apparently deciding that a stranger without any weapons was no danger, the whole group settled down on the floor to sleep.

Dori kept a fire going and handed out furs and large knitted blankets, but what mostly warmed up the sleepers, Kíli soon noticed, was the body warmth. He himself was regrettably between Dori and the white haired advisor, who had introduced himself as Balin. And not next to the king.

Breakfast consisted of a barley soup. Then the group got up and ready to leave.

Kíli should have tried to make his way back to his own kingdom. Instead, he asked to join the king of Winterland’s group to hunt for the berry.

After all, that had been his mission in the summerland.

So he followed the group as they trekked up a hill. Not too far away, he could see a shimmering curtain of light undulating through the land. The border. If he concentrated hard enough, he thought he could feel some of the warmth coming from there. Near the border, the snow was melting.

“Shouldn’t the berry be closer to there?” He asked. “How can a bush of golden berries grow here in the snow?”

The king shrugged. “Magic. Anything here grows by magic, doesn’t it.”

“I guess.”

As Kíli followed them he paid closer attention to the green shrubbery around him. Yes, magic. Magic flooded the land of winter as it did the land of summer.

“I wonder why here,” he said, when they settled down for lunch, sheltered behind some dwarfed and twisted green fir trees that held back a bank of snow. “Why the goldenberries have survived only here.”

“It makes sense.” The king of winterland broke a big loaf of bread and handed out a piece to everyone. His eyes lingered on Kíli though. “This is the remotest part of the realm. Not important enough for either Smaug or the greedy hands of king Thror of the summer to reach.”

“King Thror?”

“That is the real name of the evil king that took all the bushes from the other realms,” Fíli explained, obviously still taking Kíli for a simple peasant. “Though we share a border with the summer here, I believe there is only an uninhabited forest on the other side. He invaded the winter further South of here.”

It was not a story Kíli had ever heard before. King Thror, his great grandfather, who had been slain by the evil Azog, king of the underground. He had been the hero of the stories Kíli was told during his childhood.

Once he was back in the Summerland, he would have to ask his uncle, the retired king, what had happened.

~*~

They found no berries that day. They camped in a little depression in the land, and this night, Kíli lay pressed close to the king, sharing body warmth and whispering encouragement.

The next day Kíli insisted on looking closer to the border.

Of course, that caused suspicion.

“Balin is right,” Dwalin, who had so far been on Kíli’s side, said and eyed Kíli. “This might be an ambush.”

The king (Kíli had giggled when he found out the official name of the king was Fíli) looked at Kíli and then to his advisors.

“Maybe. But we are running out of options. We need to get closer to the border. Just be ready.”

~*~

As they crept along the border, which undulated in irregular bends and which almost blinded them with light, Kíli who was in the lead spotted something green glowing in the distance.

“There!” he shouted.

The others came closer. Kíli’s vision blurred and then Gloin and Bofur stood in front of him, their clothes shimmering from having passed the border, their weapons drawn.

Dwalin unsheated his axes and Fíli reached for his doubleswords.

“Stop!” Kíli shouted. “Stop.”

“My liege?” Gloin did not turn.

Fíli looked between Gloin and Bofur to Kíli. “What does this mean?”

“I am Kíli, king of the summerland”, Kíli explained, feeling a bit silly for speaking behind his bodyguards. “We were on the same mission as you, the signs pointed to this place.”

“There are no goldenberries in the summer?”

“No. The plague Smaug brought destroyed them.”

“My liege!” Gloin sounded scandalised.

“Peace.” Kíli sighed and walked around the guards, presenting himself unarmed to the dwarves of winter. “We are on the same mission,” he repeated. “Our countries have not had an open conflict in two generations. Certainly we can end this quest together. We both need the goldenberries.”

Fíli looked him up and down, then he slowly put his swords away. “If they grow on my side, I will let you take a sprig.”

“And if they grow on my side, I will likewise let you take a sprig. Though I think I spotted him just over there.”

It took a while for everyone to shuffle around in a way that the two groups, still wary of each other felt safe. Fíli and Kíli led the way to the green bush shimmering in the distance.

“This got to be it,” Fíli whispered. “No ordinary plant would grow this close to the border.”

Kíli was about to answer, then laughed when they neared the bush. Only it turned out to be a collection of bushes, several of which were neatly divided by the border.

“No wonder this cluster was not found. The glow of the border hides it nearly perfectly.”

“And shields its magic.” Fíli looked at the berries in awe. “And this is why our border here is still so strong, while the border to autumn has all but collapsed.”

“And ours to spring.”

So far they assumed it had something to do with the distance between this area and the knot of seasons, where all borders intertwined.

Fíli touched a berry with his pinky finger, wonder shining in his eyes. “I can’t believe we actually found them. They will restore my kingdom.”

“And mine.”

The two kings looked at each other and then to the berries.

Kíli spoke first.

“As we both will grow stronger. This seems to be an opportune time to make an official peace treaty.”

Fíli nodded. “I do not want my realm to be weakened by war. Yet it will be hard to persuade the older dwarves that you will not betray us.”

“Many of the summer do not trust the winter.” Kíli smiled at Fíli. “It may be time to change.”

Fíli stretched out a hand.

Their handshake was only broken when their guards coughed. Kíli felt his cheeks blushing hotly in the cold air. 

~*~

Sprigs of the golden berries were sent to Spring and Autumn. And magicians everywhere were busy restoring the border with the help of their magic properties. Disaster was avoided.

Several months later Kíli received an invitation to the kingdom of winter. And contrary to the advice of many at court, the king decided to travel himself. Along with his uncle Thorin, who admitted to Kíli that his own grandfather Thror had been mad at the end of his life. Though he doubted that Thror was responsible for the elimination of goldenberries in every realm. 

Something had happened three generations ago, when Thror sought war and Smaug attacked. Something that Kíli intended to get to the bottom of. 

And if it brought him closer to the king of the Winter, well, that was a personal plus. Maybe, just maybe, their alliance could be sealed by more than just a signature.

**Author's Note:**

> With my current track record of writing (barely at all in the last year) I cannot absolutely promise a sequel, but I got some ideas and hopefully this will continue eventually.


End file.
